Midnight Clear
by Green Owl
Summary: Pre-apocalypse, Carol Peletier steals some time for herself on Christmas Eve, and meets a kindred spirit in the unlikeliest of all places, the local 7-11. Written for the 2013 CARYL Secret Santa Exchange on Tumblr, and gifted to fellow author, Emerald Kitten.


Title: "Midnight Clear"  
Challenge: **CARYL Secret Santa 2013  
**Author: Green Owl  
Word Count: 1,700+  
Pairing: Daryl Dixon + Carol Peletier  
Rating: T ("Dixon tongue")  
Timeline: Christmas Eve, sometime pre-apocalypse  
Summary: "There were no secrets in Pemberton County."  
Author Notes: For Emerald Kitten, who loves cats, _The Walking Dead_, and _Supernatural_. Merry Christmas, sweetie!

Disclaimer: I don't own or buy/sell/process this mind crack – I just abuse the _hell_ out of it.

* * *

It was Christmas Eve the first time she saw him.

She had just put the small bag of Reese's Pieces on the counter and was fishing for her change.

He was next in line, waiting patiently as she tried unsuccessfully to locate a pair of nickels in her coin purse.

She was having difficulty because her fingers were so cold. Her hometown in Virginia occasionally had snow for the holidays, but here in Georgia they had to make do with a bone-chilling deep freeze that seemed to settle into the air for weeks at a time. She'd forgotten her mittens this evening, and was having a devil of a time picking through the pennies.

"Here."

She looked down to see that he had slid a dime across the counter, adding it to her pile.

"Thanks," she said, smiling as she lifted her eyes to his face.

She only looked at him for a moment, but it was enough to give her the impression of striking features, a mole above the left corner of his mouth, and a pair of deep-set eyes the color of the Caribbean at high noon.

"Welcome," he muttered, his tone indicating he was the slightest bit embarrassed.

* * *

After the first five years, Monday nights had taken on a comforting sort of sameness.

Ed would come home a little after five. He'd start drinking the moment he got to the fridge, switching from beer to whiskey when Hank Williams, Jr., appeared onscreen. If she was lucky, he would be passed out by halftime. That was her cue to slide on her coat and shoes, grab her purse and her keys, and slip out the back door into the night.

This was her time, these precious hours when she could pretend that she was free. But she always made sure to keep a similar pattern to her movements. There were no secrets in Pemberton County.

Her first stop was at Borders. She'd peruse the magazines and interior decorating books, looking for brief glimpses of her favorite styles, just a taste of something beautiful to tuck away in her mind so that she could get through the week. She'd pick up a copy of Sports Illustrated for Ed, but nothing for herself.

Next was the Piggly Wiggly, where she would buy Slim Jims, tortilla chips, queso, and pork rinds. Ed was consistent in his tastes. If everything was "just so", it reduced the chance that he would get upset with her.

Her last stop was the 7-11. She would finally allow herself a moment to catch her breath as she took in the rows of candy. She liked the ones with peanut butter. Caramel was a close second. She didn't really like coconut, not since that night she realized the honeymoon was over.

* * *

The clerk asked Carol if she wanted a bag.

She shook her head. "No, thanks."

One didn't linger at a convenience store, so she put the candy in her purse and headed for the door.

The wind was strong enough to make opening it with her hip a challenge, so she switched her bags to her right hand and prepared to add her uninjured arm into the effort.

He was so fast she didn't even register that he had moved.

One moment he was paying for his cigarettes and canned goods, the next he was there, helping her open the door.

She hadn't accounted for the addition of his strength and she stumbled. He caught her easily, but in trying to keep her upright, his hand had clamped around the vicious bruise she'd received the night before on her upper arm. She yelped.

"Jesus fuck I'm sorry!" he whispered as he immediately let go. "Didn't mean to hurt you."

She shook her head. "You didn't."

"Ya sure?" he asked, his voice soft and hesitant.

It was her first chance to get a really good look at him. She noticed that he was a little over average height and his hair was a nondescript shade of brown, but his eyes were so blue, so bright, that they brought to mind the tropical lagoons of Curaçao, and those few brief, shining moments of happiness she'd felt on the beach, right after her wedding, before the first of her many "accidents".

"I just…." She groped for the right words. "I bumped into something a few days ago."

He was quiet as he looked back at her, his expression both understanding and unreadable at the same time.

It was too intimate, and she looked away in shame.

"I know the feelin'," he offered, breaking the tension as he moved towards a battered grey pickup truck. "Stub my toes at least once a week."

"Thanks again," she called out, letting her voice rise above a murmur for the first time in months.

He gave her a lopsided smile as he ducked his head in an awkward gesture of acknowledgement.

She turned to go, and then noticed he'd dropped something.

"Hey, wait a minute!" she called out as he opened the door.

"Yeah?"

"Don't forget this," she said cautioned, holding up the can of cat food that had fallen out of his bag in his attempt to save her from introducing her face to the pavement.

"Oh, wow, thanks," he said, waiting for her to get closer. "Jack here would've been screechin' whole night through if'n I forgot his Christmas dinner."

"Jack?" she asked.

He stepped back from the door to let her get a peek inside the cab of the truck.

It was hard to make out the shape of the massive creature curled up asleep on the seat, but a moment later it woke, stretched out a thick, cobby leg, and looked at her over its shoulder. A single eye in the dark glowed golden against its thick inky fur.

"Hi there," she breathed as the huge, chunky black animal winked at her, and settled its head back into the coil of its enormous body. She turned to the man. "Let me guess, his full name is 'One-Eyed Jack'?"

"Observant," he nodded with approval as he smiled her.

Her heart went out to him. His eyes were midnight clear in the shadows and his expression was so open and so trusting. A man that beautiful, who radiated such a peculiar brand of calm empathy, was bound to have been picked on as a child. She wanted to brush the hair from his forehead, to make it better for him in some way.

"Well, thanks again," she said, extending her hand to him.

He took it and shook it gently. "Merry Christmas."

"You, too," she answered, redistributing her bags and turning to go.

"Hey," he said before he got in the truck. "Can I give ya a ride somewhere?"

He was a head taller than she and radiated that wiry, tensile strength that a man could only acquire from years of hard physical labor, but he made no attempt to be imposing. He wore beat-up, grease-stained clothes, but he smelled nice. He had a fat, happy furball of a feline with one eye who had inspired him to get it a can of cat food at an all-night convenience store so it could have "Christmas dinner."

Her antenna, honed from years of sensitivity to the moods of others, especially Ed's, told her he was no threat.

They also told her that there was more to his offer than a ride back to the house she shared with her husband.

There was safety in the cab of that truck; safety, and warmth, and respect.

It was there if she wanted it.

It was there if she was ready.

She hesitated for a moment. It was enough time for her to look back at the 7-11, where a black Chevy Impala was pulling into a space near the door. She shivered, remembering that their next-door neighbor was almost finished restoring a car exactly like that one.

There were no secrets in Pemberton County.

"Thanks, but I'll be okay," she called back.

He nodded with thoughtfulness, then shut the door, fired up his truck, and pulled out of the parking lot.

* * *

It was a long walk back to her house, but she didn't feel the cold.

What she did feel was a sense of just having had her molecules rearranged. She was still in her body, she still had her bruises, she still had her fears, but somehow she felt different. In the space of a few minutes, it was as if everything had changed.

To know that there was someone like that out there, someone who understood her world without judging her for living in it, it made her ache. She felt the cold sting of tears slipping down her cheeks and wiped them away. Ed would be suspicious if he saw her crying and he hadn't been the cause.

She reached into her purse, but the wind was so icy that she fumbled with her keys and lost them in the shadows.

"Damn!"

The temperature had been dropping rapidly over the last few hours. She wanted nothing less than to be searching for them as her hands and feet went numb, but ringing the doorbell to wake up Ed and try to get him to open up for her was out of the question.

She was about to do just that, though, when the light from a slowly passing vehicle illuminated the keys resting on the second step from the bottom.

"Yes!" she whispered, fishing them up and flipping through them for her house key.

She was about to close the door behind her when she saw that the light was holding steady.

It was coming from a pickup truck parked in the driveway next door.

Had he followed her home? To find out where she lived? To make sure she was okay?

She slipped inside, but didn't turn on the lights. She wanted to see who it was.

After a moment, the driver turned off the truck and got out.

It was him.

He was holding the cat, a can of Spaghettios, and a can of cat food, all while attempting to deal with his keys.

It took a bit of struggling, but he finally got the cat, the cans, and himself inside with a minimum of fuss.

Carol took a moment to catch her breath as she warmed up her cold, cold hands.

So this was the person who would be staying in Merle Dixon's place while the man served his time Metro State.

She seemed to recall Ed mentioning their new neighbor's name at some point last week.

_What was it? _

It took her a moment, but she finally remembered as she watched the lights in the kitchen come on.

"Merry Christmas…Daryl."


End file.
